Cross legged atop my backgammon case, I sit perched upon an embankment- the Hamilton harbor peppers itself through the windblown trees that lay staked to the earth. Three stretching trains are being prepped pre-departure and the sounds of the rail yard bounce off the hillside. I’m on the ay to an interview, well more so, a job offer, already three interviews in I was called in for the job and am just valuing my time before the work bell clangs. My view is not one that is familiar; and this earth is not custom to my steps. I’ve been desperately trying to break my mould- homebody extraordinaire I am, and to the point where I wish I was more active- that being a chapter I wish to never revisit, instead I am taking no heed in regret or stressing productivity or posting claim to life changes, but rather living and in doing so fulfilling the prior.
I met a 90 year old woman named Mae who first came to the exact spot where I sat looking out 80 years ago- she reminisced about how the trees were much smaller back then and that she used to wave to the conductors and they would wave back. She even delved into the Dundurn castle and how there were stuffed lions, peacocks and bears within its confines and people could just walk around the property in and out of the buildings. We bid each other farewell as I tried to take myself back in time.
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